


Capturing Severin

by CalamityCain



Category: David Bowie (Musician), Lou Reed (Musician), Nico (Musician), The Velvet Underground
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dominatrix, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Filming, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/pseuds/CalamityCain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1967 The Velvet Underground released the S&M-themed 'Venus In Furs'. Nearly 5 years later, a music video was shot but never released...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capturing Severin

**Author's Note:**

> ~ dedicated to my girlfriend; my darling, muse and co-conspirator ~

.

.

.

Smoke hangs thick in the lone spotlight. It tilts to accommodate the shifting arch of a naked body, white and smooth and monochrome save for a splash of fox-fur red.

 

_Shiny, shiny boots of leather_

_Whiplash girlchild in the dark_

 

“Tilt your chin just a little, Nico; that’s perfect.”

 

The other person in frame, the one holding the crop, angles her head just right to catch the shadow in the lines of her neck. Her hair tumbles onto one bare shoulder in a spill of blond silk. The rest of her is clad in black and small glints of silver.

 

The figure kneeling before her is also clad in black, albeit very little of it, and mostly in tight leather that matches Nico’s boots. The cuffs on his wrists are attached to straps holding his thighs apart and exposing his perfectly-formed genitals to the cool black gaze of the camera lens.

 

_Come in bells, your servant, don’t forsake him_

_Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart_

 

She traces the curve of the naked back, the bumps of his delicate bones. The crop handle gleams with a layer of lubricant; it catches the light briefly before she inserts it, slowly and methodically, into his ass. He tenses and gasps.

 

“Wait. Back where you were, Nic. Let’s do it again. Lights! Pay attention.”

 

The bound redhead quivers visibly, the collar serving to amplify his small sharp clavicle beneath and how it heaves ever so slightly with his quickening breath. His eyes are wide, and in the shadowy smoke-tinged light they shine as if filled with tears.

 

_Downy sins of streetlight fancies_

_Chase the costumes she shall wear_

 

A silver-haired man presiding over this spectacle is shown a couple of expensive-looking fur-trimmed garments meant for the next scene. Neither meets with his approval.

 

“A little closer – to the left, so I can see both of you.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Ready? Rolling! Annnnd…action!”

 

The makeup girl flees the frame just in time (it’s her first day on the job – that is, a job of this specific nature) for the camera to catch a flawless shot of Nico doing something to the redhead’s orifice that would never grace the screen of a television. One might wonder at the purpose of a film that will make hardly a cent from the general public, while placing itself too high for the common porno market. There will be no forthcoming explanation from the assistant director, nor from any of the poker-faced crew surrounding the two actors. As for the director himself, the aloof silver-haired personage, he’s said a scant handful of words ever since the first scene.

 

He gestures at the assistant director. The latter, well-versed by now in a multitude of vague flicks and waves, nods before commanding a change of camera angle.

 

Nico’s crop handle is buried almost to the hilt.

 

The redhead starts to sob. Yet his cock is hard, and calling for release.

 

“Cut!”

 

 

~

 

 

_Ermine furs adorn the imperious_

_Severin; Severin awaits you there_

 

The man with the silver mop is speaking for the first time in an hour. His voice unfurls in an unhurried drawl. “I don’t _care,_ Paul. If we don’t get the right garment, Nico can go naked. Except for the boots; the boots stay. Are you comfortable, honey?”

 

The last line is directed at the blond star, who is on a cigarette break. She throws him a small smile. “I’m just taking them off for a while, Andy. Stretch my toes for a minute.”

 

She turns back to the man she’s been talking to, one of the cast members and – like her – a regular presence at Andy’s parties. His face is expressionless except for when he smiles almost shyly or the curling lips part in a laugh to reveal pearl-like teeth. He runs a hand through his tight dark curls. Adjusts the shades that never leave his eyes.

 

The wardrobe mistress taps his shoulder with a clothes hanger. “You’re up in five, Lou. Jesus, where’ve you been?” She scurries past, rolling her eyes. “Will you lose the glasses? D’you see any sun in here? And lose that ratty jacket too, it’s not in the script.”

 

In any other situation he would have bit her head off without ever raising his low crisp monotone. But he’s being a professional today. As is his cock, which stands at attention at the prospect of being sucked off by a creature as beautiful as the one before him.

 

_I am tired, I am weary_

_I could sleep for a thousand years_

_A thousand dreams that would awake me_

_Different colours made of tears_

 

Andy is taking a more hands-on approach now, handling the tracking camera himself while Paul stands near the second stationary camera that will be focusing its gaze on Lou. Lou, now dressed in nothing but a single plain leather wristband and a nipple ring (fake; he'd threatened to beat up the person who had tried to make him wear a real one). His legs are spread and his hands rest on the armchair. Imperious yet casual.

 

The redhead is unbound now, though the collar remains on his neck. He is on his hands and knees, and at the call of “Action!” crawls toward his master.

 

“Slower, slower. You’re reluctant but compelled to obey.” The room is silent, filled only with Andy’s drawl. “That’s it.”

 

The subjugated figure reaches the base of Lou’s throne and, as rehearsed earlier with another man, tentatively reaches out to grip the armrests while lowering his head into Lou’s lap.

 

The room’s inhabitants seem to collectively cease breathing; the silence is thick enough to slice with a blade. Lightly rouged lips wrap themselves around Lou’s waiting cock. Lou inhales audibly. His hand grips the back of the other’s head and pushes it down with a degree of force. There is a muffled gasp and a slight choking sound, but no one intervenes. Andy’s camera moves just in time to catch an involuntary tear trickling down the pale elfin face.

 

“Open your eyes. Look up at Lou.”

 

A stifled murmur of assent, and the eyelids lift to reveal startlingly blue eyes (a shame the black-and-white footage will never do them justice). They rise to meet Lou’s stare, acquiescing, pleading, whispering what his mouth cannot.

 

_Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather_

_Shiny leather in the dark_

_Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you_

_Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart_

 

“Perfect.” Andy’s eyes never leave his camera. “Paul?”

 

Paul calls for the next cue. “Alright, Nico!” The sultry blond enters the frame, crop in hand. A suitable fur coat had failed to be procured, and so she is as naked as the two men. The clip of her boot heels echoes off the hardwood floor. As the redhead continues to suck Lou off, she traces the outline of his pert ass with the whip head.

 

Lou comes abruptly and with a groan. He waits for the other man to swallow every last drop before withdrawing.

 

With one foot he pushes the bent back before him so the latter is now pressed against the floor, on elbows and knees, bottom raised in the air. It is Nico’s turn again; mistress of the whip, wielder of punishing pleasure. She appraises the small, perfectly formed behind for a long moment before the suspense is broken by a stinging lash.

 

The receiver of the lash cries out. The riveted audience appears to drink up the sound of his distress. Another blow lands. Another cry.

 

_Severin, Severin, speak so slightly_

_Severin, down on your bended knee_

 

His cock is hard again, and leaking pre-come onto the polished hardwood. A shiver runs through his bird-like frame. _Please_ – a word silently shaped by his mouth again and again, not knowing if it means ‘stop’ or ‘more’.

 

_Taste the whip in love not given lightly_

_Taste the whip; now plead for me_

 

It takes only ten lashes to paint large symmetrical blooms of vivid pink on his milky skin. Nico steps back to survey her artwork as Paul calls out “Cut!”

 

 

~

 

 

Andy’s lens is focused on Nico’s shiny boot now. The other camera pulls back to accommodate Lou. The final scene will include all of them; like an unholy trinity, a tribute at the altar of Masoch.

 

Andy’s hand does another vague flick.

 

“Alright, you know what to do,” says Paul to his actors. “Camera rolling…and….  _action._ ”

 

Lou binds the redhead’s wrists behind his back with a length of thick silken fabric, taking his time so the lens can lap it all up. “Lift your head; look at Nico,” commands Andy. He obeys and the light falls on his face, illuminating its uncommon beauty, a dilated pupil, sparse lashes fluttering frantically.

 

The final knot in place, Lou grips the ginger’s head again and guides him toward Nico’s left foot. For a moment there is resistance; a slight struggle, pushing back against Lou’s hand. Not part of the script. But not a problem, evidently, for the camera rolls on.

 

Lou smacks the sore backside, drawing a yelp of protest. Then Nico slaps him across the face. They stand over him, letting his sobs and whimpers die down.

 

_I am tired, I am weary_

_I could sleep for a thousand years_

 

Lou kneels to stroke his neck. “You want us to stop? I can tell them to stop.”

 

The voice that replies is a dulcet tremolo, the velvet dream of pornography auteurs. It stammers a single word.

 

“N-n-no.”

 

“Good boy. We’re almost done.”

 

_A thousand dreams that would awake me_

_Different colours made of tears_

 

His touch firms into a grip, and he pushes the other man’s head down again. The small thin lips brush Nico’s boot. A small pink tongue emerges and licks the leather surface, tentatively at first, then in long steady strokes.

A hypnotic tune fades in to suffuse the silence. The notes that hum and whine like electric sitars seem to calm and still the quiver of the bent back, pliantly prostrating in worship of the blond goddess and her consort. By the time he’s done and raises his head, his eyes are half-lidded as if caught in the midst of sleepwalking.

 

_Shiny, shiny boots of leather_

_Whiplash girlchild in the dark_

 

Paul’s command breaks the spell, but only briefly. The music plays on. There is a slight shift in positions, of both cameras and cast.

 

Now it is her turn to lower herself to the floor. Nico reclines gracefully, propped up on her elbows, and spreads her legs. _Pleasure me._

 

She does not need to speak the words; he knows what to do, parting and pressing himself against her. Moaning softly, he pushes in. Rocks back and forth in rhythm with the sonorous drumbeat, the guitar-whine. She grips him tight and her breath grows guttural.

 

From behind, Lou slides a slicked finger into his ass, making him moan – loudly this time, before he is silenced with a hand over his mouth. Once he’s loosened just enough, he is penetrated brusquely and fucked hard, almost painfully. He can protest only in sharp stifled mewls, two kinds of pleasure assaulting him simultaneously.

 

Together they move almost as one. The sounds of their lust permeate the air till it’s hot and thick and tinged with musk.

 

The redhead spills into Nico’s cunt with a shudder. She growls and moans and digs her claws into his hips, leaving marks that will last for days. Her climax follows soon after. She lets her head fall back, panting and smiling at the ceiling.

 

Lou is the last to come, having already sated his sex prior and finding himself in little hurry. Besides, it feels so good being balls-deep in the slender little body that is already going limp in his arms like a rag doll.

 

Seconds later they lie entangled on the floor. Andy captures them from above, perched on a platform and letting the camera track slowly over their prone bodies. Nico turns her head to kiss her exquisite devotee, sucking the rouge from his lips, as Lou runs his hands over the angular hips and inhales the sweat-laced leather binding the milky white throat.

 

“You know your place now?” he murmurs.

 

One word is all that’s needed.

 

“Yes.”

 

_Severin, your servant comes in bells;_

_please don't forsake him_

_Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart._

 

“ _Cut._ And that’s a wrap!”

 

 

-


End file.
